


Boffin in the Garden

by mordelhin (gloria_scott)



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-05
Updated: 2005-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloria_scott/pseuds/mordelhin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin tries to talk around what Sam and Frodo are up to in the garden. Gandalf doesn't get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boffin in the Garden

It was a beautiful day in the Shire in the spring of Frodo's fiftieth year. The birds were singing, the grass was growing, and Gandalf the Wizard was walking up the road to Bag End. He found Pippin Took taking the air at the gate of the Baggins residence.  
  
"Good afternoon Master Peregrin. Where's Frodo? Is he inside? I need to speak to him. Pronto."  
  
"Nah," Pippin replied, distractedly chewing an apple and studying a much handled copy of Shire Lasses Gone Shod. "He's with Sam, boffin'."  
  
"Sam Boffin? I didn't know old Griffo and Daisy had another son."  
  
Pippin looked up. "What? No, they don't"  
  
"But you just said Frodo was with Sam Boffin."  
  
"There is no Sam Bof...oh noodles." Pippin stifled a giggle, not wanting to incur the legendary wrath of the old ninnyhammer, er, wizard. "He's with Sam Gamgee. You know, Frodo's" here he made two quote hooks in the air with his fingers "gardener," and grinned.  
  
"Well, why didn't you just say so, fool of a Took? Where can I find him? It's important."  
  
"They're in the garden," Pippin replied. "But you can't go back there!" he added quickly, as Gandalf made a move to walk past him towards the garden path.  
  
The wizard stopped, visibly irritated. "Why ever not?"  
  
"They're planting," Pippin said, with a wink.  
  
"So?"  
  
Pippin hesitated for a moment. Did the old man really not get it? "I mean," he said slowly, "Sam's plowing Frodo's field."  
  
"Field?" Gandalf snorted. "It's a garden, Master Peregrin. He's growing snapdragons, not ears of corn."  
  
"You don't understand," Pippin moved to intercept the wizard as he again tried to access the path. "I *mean* Frodo's having a bit of pickle and eggs for lunch." And with that Pippin quite emphatically bit a large chunk of apple and chewed, grinning even more.  
  
"Ah well, nothing worse than that, eh? I'm feeling a bit peckish. I could go for some pickles and eggs myself."  
  
Pippin's sharp intake of breath nearly made him choke on the apple he was eating. Instantly his eyes began to tear up and he coughed violently. _Blighty weevils!_ He thought. _I'll never get that image out 'a me head now._  
  
As soon as he could speak, he tried again. "They're stuffing the pink turnip back there."  
  
Gandalf looked at him and blinked.  
  
"Fluffing the pillows?"  
  
"Petting the troll?"  
  
"Tupping?"  
  
That was it. Pippin, frustrated, threw his half eaten apple to the ground. "Drown it, Gandalf, they're fucking their brains out. Aye. Right there. In the garden. Just this side of the hedge. Gandalf, Sam is screwing Frodo."  
  
The wizard stood there several moments more. Then silently, he turned and walked stolidly out of the gate.  
  
 _Son of a chickentupper!_ Pippin thought. _Do all wizards have pigskit for brains?_  
  
***  
  
"Tooks and Brandybucks," Gandalf muttered as he made his way back down the road. "Buggers the lot of them."


End file.
